Healing
by Templar's Creed
Summary: Hans Gruber survives the disaster at the Nakatomi Plaza, but he did not escape without serious injury. Now he must fight and rebuild his life slowly.
1. Implied Death

**Welcome to my story Healing. This fanfic is unlike my other ones. This story is serious and contains intense moments. If you do not like stories where people are depressed, angry or highly emotional this fic is not for you. Here it is, please enjoy and don't forget to favorite and review.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Implied Death<strong>

A bullet ripped through his chest.

He stumbled backwards, dragging his capture with him.

He felt himself hitting the large window and the glasses braking behind him.

He slid out the window, his feet dangling in the air. The only thing holding him up was his captive's wrist.

Looking down at the ground, he calculated he had to be over thirty stories up.

Lifting his head, he saw the captive's husband rush forward and try to help his wife.

Despite the pain, he lifted the gun and aimed at John McClain's head. If he was going to die, he was going to take that American Cowboy with him, Hans thought to himself.

He lifted his finger to pull the trigger. Then John McClain managed to break the watch off his wife's wrist.

He lost his grip and plummeted downward.

The wind rushed past at an alarming rate, closer and closer the ground came towards him. His last thoughts were how he had failed.

Unbearable pain exploded all over his body and he knew no more.


	2. Unbearable Pain

**Chapter Two: Unbearable Pain **

The first thing he noticed when he emerged into a semi-consciousness state was the voices speaking in quiet tones near his bed. The second thing he became aware of was how cold he felt. The other sounds really seemed familiar, yet he couldn't quite place them.

An orange glow was spoiling the perfection of absolute darkness. He could sense tingling all over his body and the hint of pain. It was slowly being roused from its slumber and it riddled his limbs with growing intensity. His teeth began to chatter and his body to quake.

He couldn't make out his surroundings - the room was too dark. He seemed to be lying upon a cold table. Above him was a huge circular light hanging from the ceiling. Somewhere near or maybe overhead, he heard a steady beep, beep sound. Where was he? Had he been captured by the police or was he in some kind of hell?

"Where..." The smooth velvet of his voice was gone, replaced by a grating rasp. What had happened?

All of a sudden, intense pain flared in his limbs and back. His eyes snapped open and his back arched. He tried to scream, but all that emanated from his throat was a hiss. The voices grew alarmed, and he felt more hands on his body, restraining him. Dark forms all around him. He couldn't focus on anything in front of him.

"Make it... stop -stop..." Hans cried.

"You are sick, we are helping you, please be calm," one of the black figures said. "Do not be afraid." Hans tried to say something else but the breath got caught in his throat. He began to wheeze but couldn't breathe any oxygen to pass into his lungs.

Hans heard one of the voices yell something but he couldn't make it out. The pain was reaching an unbearable level. He drew in his breath and a sharp, violent spasm shook his body and he lost complete control. His vision began to blur and a loud ring noise sounded in his ears.

He prayed for death to take him and make the pain go away - and allow him to slip into darkness' sweet embrace. The last thing he remembered was something being pressed over his nose and mouth.


	3. Awake

**Chapter Three: Awake**

"You're awake?" a voice spoke.

Hans stirred again, and his eyelids fluttered open. There was a fire in the hearth. He took a look around and noticed he wasn't in the same room as before. This room was much nicer and warmer. The room looked familiar to him. The walls were a dark forest green and had a clean hard wood floor. There was an old but well-kept bedside table next to him. On top of it there seemed to be some type of equipment that he didn't recognize. He found a man bending over him. The man's skin was pale and he had a rather large nose. His straight grey hair was messy and from the dark rings around his eyes the man looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Hans opened his mouth to speak but only a croak issued forth. The man with the grey hair disappeared for a moment. There was a clicking and the sound of water being poured. A moment later, the gentleman reappeared with a tall glass of water. He reached out and gently lifted Hans' head off the pillows. He held the glass to Hans' lips and poured the water slowly.

Hans drank the cold water greedily - it was soothing his dry burning throat. When the water was gone, the man placed Hans' head back on the pillow.

"W-who are you?" Hans asked.

The doctor set the empty glass down on the bedside table. He took a seat on the side of Hans' bed and peered down at him.

"Don't you remember me?"

Hans simply stared up at the man. The man shook his head and sighed. "I am Dr. Gottschalk."

Hans continued to stare. Then finally the realization hit him. "My old family doctor?" he inquired.

Dr. Gottschalk nodded. "Yes, I am. It's been a long time, Hans."

"Where am I?"

"In your mother's home back in Germany."

Hans' eyes widened in disbelief. "How? The last thing I remember was…"

"Falling off a building," Dr. Gottschalk finished. "Yes, you're very lucky to be alive. Some of your men found you and brought you to safety."

"That's not the whole story."

The doctor stood up and moved over to the bedside table and began searching through his bag. "No, it's not, but let us save that for another time, you need more rest."

Gottschalk found what he was looking for and pulled it out of his black bag. He walked forward towards the bed and stood over Hans; but before he could do anything, the door to the room flew open. A woman hurried in, shutting the door behind her. She turned her head towards them and gasped.

"Hans!" the woman yelled and raced across the floor. She ran up to the bed and kneeled down.

"Christina," Hans whispered.

Christina took ahold of her husband's pale hand and held it to her face. She was a short woman, about 5'5" with midnight hair that made her pale skin seem transparent. Tears were leaking from her green eyes and began dripping onto her dress. She was normally a fit woman but she was five months pregnant.

"Oh Hans, I was so worried."

Hans tried to lift himself off the pillow but his body was too weak. The doctor stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back down. "Please don't try and move, you'll cause more damage to your injuries."

Christina gave a sad smile and smoothed the hair out of her husband's face. "How are you feeling?" she questioned.

"Sore."

"Perhaps you should go find Mrs. Gruber and Simon, they will want to know that Hans is conscious," Gottschalk addressed Christina.

She nodded and stood up from the bed with some difficulty and headed towards the door. Hans laid in his bed, silently staring up at the ceiling. Dr. Gottschalk busied himself around the room checking things and grabbed more equipment. He pulled up another desk from the other side of the room and moved it to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Hans asked, watching the doctor's activity.

"I'm going to examine you," Gottschalk answered simply.


	4. Diagnosis

**Chapter Four: Diagnosis**

Dr. Gottschalk moved around the room, carefully examining Hans. He lifted him up and appraised his injuries. He checked and changed the bandages to Hans' gunshot wound.

"Good, that seems to be healing nicely," Gottschalk approved.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Hans wanted to know.

Gottschalk took out a stethoscope and placed it on Hans' chest. The doctor was silent for a moment listening. Satisfied, he took it out of his ears and stuffed it back into his bag. "You've been out for three weeks."

Hans raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback to hear he been out for so long.

"You did wake once, but you had a bad fever, so you probably don't remember."

"I do remember waking up once, but I was overcome by unbearable pain."

"Yes, your injuries were rather fresh then."

"And what are my injuries, might I ask?"

"Broken ribs, fractured femur and ulna. You also have a spinal —"but the doctor was cut off when the door opened to the bedroom once more. An old woman hurried over to his bed, followed closely behind by Hans' wife Christina and his older brother Simon.

"Oh Hans, you're finally awake," the old woman said, sounding relieved.

"Mother," Hans whispered, acknowledging her. He peered past her and over to his older brother Simon who was standing near the door. Hans gave him a simple nod which Simon returned.

Hans' mother pulled up a chair to the side of the bed and sat down. She took ahold of his hand which was lying on the bed and held it in hers. She didn't speak; she was so happy that her son was finally awake.

"Will he live, doctor?" Hans' mother asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes, he will live."

Hans' mother was about to ask another question when the doctor shook his head. He moved over to the other side of Hans' bed and began to fiddle with the IV drip. He pulled out a syringe and stuck it into the long clear wire that ran from the IV bag and into Hans' right arm.

"What is that?" Hans questioned.

"It's a sedative, it will help you sleep."

"I just woke up," he complained, already feeling the effects of the medication.

"Your body needs more time to heal, try and get some sleep. Don't worry, you won't be out for another three weeks," the doctor promised.

Hans' mother gave him encouraging nod as if to say "Rest assured, we'll watch over you while you sleep." Hans closed his eyes, no longer fighting the sedative the doctor had given him. He relaxed his body into the sheets and with the aid of the drug; he immediately slipped back into the darkness.

Dr. Gottschalk leaned over Hans and checked to see if he was really out. Once satisfied with his findings, he straightened up and motioned the others to step into the hallway so they could speak freely. As soon as the door was closed, he turned to the family that was gathered before him.

"Now, you must understand Hans' condition. He has sustained serious injuries and needs time to heal," the doctor stated.

"Will he make a full recovery?" Christina asked, sounding worried.

The doctor sighed and rubbed his sleepy eyes. "I don't know. Like I said, he has sustained serious injuries and the one I'm most concerned about is the spinal fracture."

"What's so disquieting about that spinal injury?" Simon inquired.

Dr. Gottschalk folded his arms across his chest and began to explain the situation. "When your brother fell, Mr. Gruber, he snapped his spinal cord in half. That could lead to a variety of things."

"Like what?" Hans' mother demanded.

"I'm not sure yet, I'll know more the next time I examine him once he wakes up. But you must prepare yourselves. You must understand that due to Hans' spinal injury he may never walk again."


	5. Telling the Truth

**Chapter Five: Telling the Truth **

Hans awoke once again in his room. The sun was shining through navy blue curtains. He blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes and tried to focus. Hans searched his surroundings and found his wife sleeping next to him. She was slumped over in a chair, her head resting on the side of his bed. He thought he should wake her up; she shouldn't have been sleeping like this while she was five months pregnant.

He raised a shaking hand and gently touched her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open immediately. She looked upon her husband's face. Christina sat up and rubbed her eyes and straightened her hair. She smiled down at him.

"I see you're awake" Christina stated.

Hans stared up at her. He licked his dry lips and asked: "How long have I been out this time?"

Christina looked over at the clock on the bedside table. "Seventeen hours - it's around noon now."

Hans nodded. He pushed his hands underneath of him and tried to raise himself from the bed. He winced and bit back a moan of pain that wanted to escape from his mouth. Christina immediately held him still.

"Dr. Gottschalk said not to try to move around," she informed him, settling him against his pillows.

Once lying back on the bed properly and having finished making sure he was comfortable, he asked her a question. "Do you think I can have some food?"

Christina nodded and stood up. She quickly headed out the door and towards the kitchen. She was just finishing up when Simon stepped into the room. He looked like he had just woken up - his blond hair was sticking up all over the place.

"Is that for me?" he gestured towards the food.

"No, your brother has just awakened and I'm taking him some food."

"Can you make me some as well?" he asked.

"No, you're not broke, you can get it yourself."

Simon was going to say neither was Hans but that wasn't the truth anymore. His little brother might be facing the rest of his life in a wheelchair. He looked up at his sister-in-law.

"Did you tell him?" he asked.

"Tell him what?"

"About what Dr. Gottschalk told us?"

Christina turned back the counter and began putting the food away. "No, I didn't tell him yet and before you ask me why, Dr. Gottschalk said he was going to examine him once again."

"And if it turns out that he won't be able to walk?"

Christina sighed and looked down at the plate of food, trying to keep herself from crying. "I'll let Dr. Gottschalk break the news to him; after all, he's the doctor."

Christian walked past Simon and left him standing in the kitchen. He stood there a few moments debating whether he should go into this brother's room. Simon turned and slowly walked down the hall. As he came closer, he could hear two voices speaking softly.

Simon came to the door and stopped. He peeked in and saw Christina hovering over her husband. She set the plate carefully down on the bedside table and rearranged the pillows so Hans was propped up a bit. She moved to the chair closer to the bed and sat down.

She picked up the warm bowl of soup and held the spoon out. Hans looked at the spoon in mid air and then back at his wife's face. His face grew red from the embarrassment. Christina smiled at him, understanding his hesitation.

"Hans, please. There's nothing to be embarrassed about" she reassured him.

Hans relented. Christina brought the spoonful of hot soup to his lips. He took a spit and swallowed it down. The soup began to make his insides feel warm, loosening up his stiff muscles. She feed him the remainder of the soup and a little bit of crackers. Once finished, she set the bowl aside.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you."

She smiled, padding his hand. She didn't know what to say to him. She was feeling rather indifferent not know what to say to her own husband.

"So how have you've been, since I've been gone?" Hans asked.

"Everything's good."

"What about the baby?"

"It's good, everything doing fine," she said, patting her stomach.

"Do you know what it is?"

Christina shook her head. "I wanted to wait until you got back so we could (could) find out together."

Hans smiled. "As soon I get back on my feet, we'll go and found out."

Christina nodded quickly, trying to keep her emotions at bay. "Let me go notify Dr. Gottschalk that you're awake so he can examine you."

She stood up and picked up the empty bowl. She walked out the door, not sparing a glance at Simon as she passed him in the doorway. Simon watched her walk around the corner and then turned his attention back towards the bedroom.

He stood there for a moment, unsure what to do.

"I know you're there Simon, I can hear you breathing" Hans called from his sick bed.

Simon frowned. Hans always had those bionic ears. He poked his head around the corner and saw Hans sitting up in bed. He walked in and closed the door behind him. He sat down in the chair that Christina had just vacated. They just stared at each other a few minutes, none of them saying a word.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" Hans inquired.

Simon just blinked. "So, how are you feeling, little brother?"

Hans rolled his eyes. "That's a stupid question, seeing I have fallen from a thirty story building and broken my back," he said spitefully.

Simon didn't say anything. That had been a stupid question. They had never really had a good relationship. He was two years older than Hans. They had fought a lot all throughout their childhood, Hans being smarter than him and also being their parents' favorite. While Hans had gone to a protégés' college, he himself had gone into the army. While Hans finally settled down and found a beautiful loving wife, he was still playing around. Hans was about to have his first child while he would remain childless. Plus who was a better thief overall? Hans was.

Simon crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the chair. He looked down at the bed and saw that Hans had turned his head away and was looking at the wall on the other side of the room. Simon sat quietly glancing around the room. The room was the same as when Hans was a boy.

The door to the bedroom opened and Dr. Gottschalk stepped in. He was wearing gray pants with a thick sweater. He had his black bag in his hand as well as a stethoscope around his neck. He moved forward and dropped his things on the desk that sat at the foot of Hans' bed.

Dr. Gottschalk turned to Simon sitting quietly in the chair. "Would you kindly wake your mother and wait for me in the other room?" he asked Simon.

Simon looked up at the doctor and nodded. He glanced at Hans, who looked back at him with a blank expression. Simon finally stood up and exited the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

The doctor opened his bag and began retrieving equipment he would need during the examination. Hans watched silently from the bed. Once he was finished, Gottschalk moved to the side of the bed and gently rolled down the blankets.

The doctor listened to his heart, took his pulse and checked and changed his bandages. He wrote down the results on a small clipboard. Once finished, he placed his notes on the table and rolled up the blankets, exposing his feet. He leaned forward and rolled up Hans' pants legs just above his knees.

Hans stared down at his pale legs. He looked at them as if he had never seen them before. "Can you wiggle your toes for me?" the doctor asked.

Hans glared down at his feet and concentrated. He tried to move his toes for about ten seconds with no avail. He stared up at the doctor, bewilderment written on his face. Gottschalk frowned.

"Try to move one of your legs," he suggested.

Hans tried but with the same result. He started to panic and tried to figure out what was happening with him. Gottschalk stood up and walked back over to the foot of the bed. He took out a pen and lightly ran it up and down the sole of Hans' foot.

"Can you feel that?"

Taking a moment to consider, he answered. "Barely."

"But you can feel that?" he asked touching the other foot.

"Yes."

Gottschalk touched his legs next. "Can you feel that as well?"

"Yes."

Gottschalk nodded and wrote on his clipboard. He sat down in the chair Simon sat in earlier, ready to give his diagnosis. "Your body is healing rather well, far better than I expected. Your legs are a whole different matter. You see, when you fell you broke you lower back right in half. You not being able to move anything from the waist down is not shocking."

"Not shocking," Hans repeated. "Well I hate to break it to you, but it is to me!"

Gottschalk rubbed his eyes. "Listen, you being able to feel sensation in your legs is a very good sign. It means you're not paralyzed and more feeling should come back soon."

Hans took in what the doctor was telling him, and then he asked. "How soon will I be able to get out of bed and walk around?"

Gottschalk dropped his eyes. He reached behind him and pulled out a tan folder. He opened it and handed Hans a black and white picture. Hans took it slowly. He stared down at the X-ray that the doctor had taken. It showed a nasty brake at the bottom of his spinal cord.

"You have a 20% chance of ever walking again," he finally announced.

Hans froze. The X-ray slipped from his finger and flopped soundlessly on to the bed. He was too stunned to speak. He stared straight ahead of him to shock to even move. He was trying to comprehend what Gottschalk had just told him.

The words _20% chance of every walking again_ echoed in his mind over and over. After a full two minutes, he finally got a hold of his body and slowly turned to look over at the doctor. Hans looked into his eyes and saw that he was telling the truth. He was about to speak when the door opened.

His wife rushed into the room and fell down by his side. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly. He looked past his wife and the doctor and saw his mother and brother in the doorway, their faces looking grim. Obviously they all had been listening at the door as Gottschalk had told him the news.

He looked at each person. He thought back to how everyone had been acting. "Oh," Hans whispered. "Is that why you all have been acting so strange today? Unsure what to say to the cripple."

None of them said anything. Hans glared at them, his anger rising by the second. "Leave me be" he finally said.

His wife's eyes grew wide. "Hans please, don't send us away."

Hans untangled his hand away from her and turned his face away from everybody. Christina shifted forward and tried to reach out to him but he pulled away even more.

"All of you get out," he murmured, keeping his face away from them.

Christina opened her mouth to say something more, but the doctor tapped her shoulder and shook his head. He whispered something to her. She dropped her head and let the doctor pick her up off the floor and lead her to the door. Before leaving, Christina looked back at her husband once more but he still would not look at them.

As Hans heard the door close, he turned back and faced the other direction revealing the tears that quietly slipping down his stricken face.


	6. First Signs

**Chapter Six: First Signs **

Two months had gone by since Hans had been told that he had a 20% chance of ever walking again. Since that day he had been very quiet. His wife had tried to comfort him but he would push her away every time, he wanted to be alone.

Hans sat in his wheel chair at the dinner table with his mother, wife and older brother. While everyone was eating he pushed the food around in his plate. Christina looked over at her husband sadness written on his face. She knew he had been suffering the past few months with his disability. He had been so silent and every time one of them tried to comfort him he would snap at them or he wouldn't answer their questions. He was withdrawing from them more and more and they were starting to get worried.

Christina kept watching her husband debating whether she should say something or not. She knew if she did he might feel embarrass and strike out. "Sweetheart, please eat, you have to get your strength back" Christina asked gently.

Hans slowly looked up from his plate and glared at his wife with a blank expression. His face was pale and his eyes were bloodshot. He had not trimmed his beard in a while and hair was growing out. He truly was letting his normal flawless appearance go and he seemed as if he didn't care one bit.

"I am not a child Christina, if I wish to eat I will. Do not question me."

Christina sat stunned. In the two years they had been married he had never spoken to her like that before. He had always treated her with respect and dignity, but now he had practically yelled at her at the dinner table with his mother and brother looking on.

"Hans" Mrs. Gruber scolded her son.

Hans simply looked up at his mother with the same blank expression. He then threw down his napkin and he wheeled himself out of the room not even caring that the tears started to slip down his wife's face. Mrs. Gruber stood from her seat around the table and walked over to her daughter in-law and embraced her.

"Shhh, it will be alright honey, he didn't mean it. He's just upset right now, it will pass."

Christina sniffed and wiped her tears away with her napkin. "He has no right to speak to me like that. I am his wife and soon to be the mother of his child and I will be treated with respect."

She pushed back her chair and stood. She was about to go speak with her husband but Mrs. Gruber blocked her path. "Christina, please don't disturb him, give him some time to sort himself out before you confront him. You understand he is going through a hard time, not excusing how he just treated you dear."

Christina sighed and sat back down. "Your right of course, I'll give him some time."

"Thank you, that's all he needs just some time to adjust."


	7. Wishing

**Chapter Seven: Wishing **

He was sitting on the porch swing, gently swaying back and forth. He had his arm thrown over the back of the long wooden bench and a book in the other hand. He lifted his head from the crisp white page and let the breeze blow across his face, tousling his dark brown hair. He sat up and reached for the bookmark that was lying on the seat next to him. He shut the book with a snap, stood and headed into the house.

He closed the screen door behind him. He walked into the kitchen and set his book down upon the table. He walked over towards the refrigerator and opened it. He searched through the different items, trying to figure out what he wanted. After a moment of indecision he reached in, pushing the milk aside and grabbed one of his wife's energy drinks.

He shut the door and moved over to the counter. He stood in front of the toaster getting a peek at his reflection in the silver lining. He opened the bottle and took a deep drink and then sat the bottle down. He made a move towards the sink when he caught a reflection from the toaster. He smiled as he caught his son's reflection peeking around the door frame.

The small child stepped into the room watching his father with his back towards him. The child grinned to himself and began to tip toe towards his father.

Hans smiled as well thinking it was funny that his son always tried to sneak up on him. While watching the boy's reflection in the toaster, he saw his son was getting closer. He slowly moved the bottle out of the way so he wouldn't knock it over and spill the content over for the counter top and floor.

His son was a few feet from him now. Hans whipped around, scaring the child as he picked his son up and held him into his arms.

"You scared me, daddy," the boy laughed.

"Yes I did, Alex; you were trying to scare me."

The boy in his arms was the spitting image of him except for the color of his eyes, which were green like his mother's. The boy's hair was soft and wavy like his father's when he was young. When he grew older his hair would straighten out. Hans sat the five year old down on the floor and took his hand leading him from the kitchen.

"Where are your mother and sister?"

"They're up stairs playing with dolls, again" the boy pouted.

Hans chuckled, leading his son towards the stairway. Alex climbed the high stairs with the help of his father holding his hand. As they neared the top, they heard a little girl's voice floating towards them. When they reached the landing, Hans led his son into the large bedroom.

Inside were two people sitting on the floor playing with plastic dolls. The small little girl was dressed in a yellow sunflower dress, who lay on the floor brushing her doll's blond hair. The woman sitting cross legged on the floor looked up at her husband who was standing in the doorway with their five year old son. She smiled at them and waved them over.

Hans slowly walked into the room and sat down on the floor next to his wife. Alex stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and a sour expression on his face. Christina laughed, catching sight of her son's face.

"Pouting doesn't become you, sweetheart," she said. "Come sit down next to mommy so we can play." Alex dropped his arms to his side; he then walked over to his mother and flopped down next to her.

Hans glanced at his son with a disapproving look he opened his mouth to reprimand the boy, but was interrupted by his daughter pulling on his sleeve. He looked down at his daughter's big green eyes.

"You can be Ken," Hans' daughter said, holding out a naked doll.

He smiled down at his little girl and took the doll from her hand. "Don't you want dress him first before we play?" he asked.

"You can do it" she answered, shoving a whole bunch of clothes towards her father.

Alessa turned towards her twin brother and gave him a huge smile. She reached down picking up a girl doll for him to dress up as well. Alex frowned down at the plastic doll. He looked up and gave a pleading look to his father. Hans glanced down at his son as he sat the doll's brush down on the carpet. He could tell by the look that his son was giving him that he felt embarrassed.

He sighed. "Alessa, please give your brother a male doll to play with."

Alessa listened to her father's words and took the doll back and gave him a male one. Alex seemed a bit happier. Not overly happy, he still didn't want to play with the dolls, they were for girls and not for little boys like him.

When all the dolls that were on the carpet were dressed and in their right positions is was when Alessa announced that they were ready to begin playing. The huge pink and white dollhouse (more like a mini mansion) sat proudly in the middle of the floor. The mansion was five feet tall and towered over the two five year olds. The toy had six large rooms as well as two full bathrooms. Next to the dollhouse there was a black and silver Mercedes; and in the backyard was a small patio and a plastic pool that was filled up with water and sat on top of towels.

Alessa picked up her favorite doll and walked it over to her mother's doll and began to have a conversation with it.

"Hi, my name is Lucy and this is my big house," Alessa began. "What's your name?"

"Oh, hi there Lucy, my name is Christina."

Alessa giggled and looked up at her mother. "Mom, you're not supposed to use your real name. You're supposed to make one up."

Christina took a deep breath and tried a new voice. The voice was a bit whiny sounding as if she was an eight year old. She was not very good at doing voices, which was more of her husband's department; he could almost do any accent with little effort.

Christina finished her make believe conversation with her daughter. Once the introductions were over between the two, Alessa moved on to her father next. Hans smiled down at his daughter and moved his doll forward. His Ken doll was dressed in a smart suit, with his hair combed to the side and sunglasses over his face.

"Hi, Lucy my name is Chip."

Alessa rolled her eyes. "Chip? Dad, you're a snack now. Is that even a real name?"

He laughed. "Of course Chip is a real name."

Alessa frowned, not believing her father but continued to play with him anyway. Hans did his daughter's favorite voice. It was high pitched and sounded like a cartoon character. He did the voice all the time when she was feeling sad and it would cheer her up instantly. Then, last but not least, she turned to her brother. Alex picked up his doll by its feet and set him down roughly on the floor.

Alessa frowned at her brother's lack of effort. "You're not handling him right. You're supposed to hold him gently, not slam him down on the carpet by his feet."

Alex groaned and rolled his eyes. "Are you going to talk to me so I can end this stupid game and go play with my own toys?"

"We played with your toys as a family last week, did we not, Alex?" Hans asked his son. The little boy nodded silently. "And didn't your sister play with you last week without complaint?" Again Alex nodded. "So if Alessa played with you without whining why can't you do the same for her?"

"Because her toys are boring?" Alex whined. "My toys are funnier than her toys. All she has are dolls. All you can do is dress them up, at least with my toys can do more."

"Alex, it doesn't matter what your toys do and Alessa's can't. This is about sharing and being respectful of what other people like, even if we don't like it. Just like your mother and I. Do you really think I like everything your mother likes? No, I do not." Hans told his son. "But I am respectful and do what your mother wants. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Yes, father," Alex answered.

"Now you will sit here with your sister and play with her. There will be no pouting and you will be respectful." Alex nodded and picked up the doll correctly this time and turned to his sister.

Hans and his wife stood up and vacated the room. They lingered in the hallway and listened to their son to see if he had heeded to his father's words. After a moment they realized that he had listened to them, so they left the two children to play.

As Hans and Christina walked down the hall, she stopped and grabbed her husband's wrist. He turned and looked down at his wife, raising a confused eyebrow. "What did you mean back there when you told Alex, that you didn't like everything I like?"

"Well, I don't like everything you like doing."

"Which is?"

Hans shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, I know there has to be something you don't like doing with me."

Hans sighed and turned his face away and mumbled something under his breath. "I didn't catch that," Christina stated.

"I don't like watching those romance movies with you," Hans revealed.

Christina wrinkled up her face in confusion. "Why?"

"Because they're strictly for women."

"Ok, and you think I like those no plot, blow everything up action movies?"

"No, but that's why we share and do what the other doesn't like," Hans stated.

"Well," Christina whispered, stepping forward. She reached out and took her husband's hand. "Why don't we go and do something we both enjoy doing together?"

Hans smirked and he stepped closer to her. "Why do mean by do something we both enjoy?"

Christina gestured her head towards their closed bedroom door. Hans smirked turned into a big Cheshire smile. "What about the kids?" he asked.

"They're playing; they won't notice we're gone."

"Lead the way then."

Christina spun around and led them towards their room. They were halfway down the hall when she felt her husband stop. She heard an intake of air and it sounded painful. She turned back to her husband and saw that his face had turned a pasty white.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Hans opened his mouth to speak but he clenched his teeth together to stop himself from crying out in pain. His legs gave out from under him as they turned to jelly. He collapsed to the floor holding his legs; Christina fell to the floor beside him.

"Hans, tells me what's wrong, tell me what hurts" she begged him.

Hans lifted his head up "My legs, I can't feel my legs."

Hans saw his wife try to speak to him, he could see her mouth moving but he couldn't hear anything because of the ringing in his ears. He was about to say something, but room began to spin and everything turned dark.

Hans opened his eyes. He was staring up at a forest green ceiling. The room had ceased to spin and everything was quiet. Hans took a deep breath and turned his head to look beside him. He was lying in bed on his back and his wife was asleep next to him.

Hans sighed and closed his eyes. It had all been a dream. The summer day, the toys and the two children; his two children. Alex and Alessa; he could still hear their voices and laughter. Everything had seemed real and now that he had woken up, that whole world had been shattered to pieces. He had been sent back to his own personal hell. He reached out and pulled back the bedcovers and looked down at his useless legs. In his dream he was able to walk, but here he was an invalid person.

Hans breathing quickened and he squeezed his eyes shut; but no matter how hard he tried to control himself the tears began to leak down his cheek and a soft sob escaped his throat. After a moment he couldn't hold back any longer and tears came freely.

He wept for the children that did not exist and for himself; but most all for life he had before the accident.


	8. Anger and Embarrassment

**Chapter Eight: Anger and Embarrassment **

Hans lay stretched out on the floor of his workout room. He gazed up at the gray ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. He was in a great deal of pain and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and block it out. The agony came from his lower back and legs. Next to him was a pair of parallel bars that he used for his physical therapy.

A few weeks ago, he had begun his therapy. It was a long and painful process. His therapist had him do different exercise, from water aerobics to weight training. All of this was to maintain the blood flow to his hardly useful legs and help build back up his strength in them.

To say he hated this process that he was forced to undergo four times a week was an understatement. The pain was only one part on the problem. The humiliation and the lack of progress was what bothered him the most. He felt degraded because he had to ask for help for the simplest things. Special equipment had to be installed in his house so he could function from day to day. Without it he would be useless, and that's what he felt right now, utterly useless.

Hans reached out and grabbed the parallel bars and pulled himself into a sitting position. He rested a moment and then turned and moved his wheelchair closer to him. He took a deep breath, ready to drag himself up from the floor and into the chair, something he had mastered the past couple of weeks. He began to pull upward when he heard footsteps approaching.

Christina walked in and halted in the doorway, when she spotted her husband on the floor looking up at her. She surveyed him carefully. He didn't seem to be hurt from the looks of things. He looked to be worn out more than anything.

"Honey, are you alright?"

Hans nodded without saying anything. Christina walked over and bent down in front of Hans, which was a bit hard with her being seven months pregnant. "Do you need help?"

Hans could feel the veins pulsing in his forehead as he became rather annoyed at his wife's questions. She would ask him that same question about 50 times a day and he was really getting sick of it. He resumed pulling himself up into his chair, when his wife reached out to help, he glared at her.

Christina sighed and placed her arm back at her side. "Hans, please let me help you."

"I can do it myself," he spat.

Christina stepped back and allowed her husband to struggle up from the floor and maneuver himself into his wheelchair, watching him grab on to the parallel bars and use what little strength he had to pull himself upward. His arms shook under the strain. One hand remained on the parallel bars and the other reached out and pulled his chair closer. When his body became leveled with his chair, he eased himself into it.

Sweat drenched his face as he sat there trying to catch his breath. After a few moments of resting, he reached down and hauled his feet on to the pedals, straightening them out. Having finished, Hans began to roll himself towards the door, leaving his wife standing there staring after him.

As Hans disappeared around the door frame, Christina sighed again. She was getting frustrated with him. Her own husband was pushing her further away as time went by. When they first moved back into their own home, she had stayed with Hans every minute of every day. He had shouted at her and told her to leave him be. She had given him some space for a while. After a couple of days she tried to talk to him, but every time she approached him, he would leave the room. She had come here to speak to him again, but as before, he left. She was done putting up with his behavior; she was going to solve the problem there and then.

She marched into the living where she spotted Hans near the coffee table. He was absorbed in a book and had not realized that she was standing a few feet from him. She cleared her throat to get his attention. Hans glanced up at her briefly, but then went right back to his book.

Christina bit her lip, trying to keep her temper under control. He had blatantly ignored her. She stomped across the room and ripped the book from her husband's hand. Hans glared up at her with a murderous look plastered on his face.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" he bellowed.

"You will not ignore me," she told him firmly. "We will not live in the same house and not speak to each other. You will stop trying to avoid me every time I come near you and you will cease talking to me like a child, do you understand me, Hans Alexander Gruber?"

He sat there for a couple of seconds before he answered. "If you had obeyed my wish, I would not have to talk to you like a child. Just obey what I say and I will cease to speak to you like a child."

Christina would have slapped him if he had not been in that wheelchair. He had never in the two years of their marriage had he spoken to her in that matter. She took a moment to compose herself before she spoke again. "Do not address me like that again. I am trying to be supportive towards you, and you will not treat me like dirt. Now we will sit down and discuss what is wrong like the adults we are."

"I do not want to discuss anything. I do not want your pity, nor do need I want your help. So just butt out and mind your own business and let me take care of mine," he told her off.

"Your business?" she repeated. "I am your wife, if you haven't noticed. Whatever business you have I'm also involved in. As well as I don't pity you, I care about you and want to help you. That is my duty as your wife. Please let me in and tell me what's wrong?"

Hans chuckled. "What's wrong you ask, what's right?" He turned his chair and rolled out of the room, once again avoiding his problems.


	9. Anger and Embarrassment to Depression

**Chapter Nine: From Anger and Embarrassment to Depression **

Christina sat across her kitchen table conversing with Hans' mother. Both women had a cup of hot tea in front of them. Mrs. Gruber hers and gently blew the hot liquid before taking a sip. She placed the cup back down on the table and surveyed her daughter-in-law sadly.

From her perspective, Christina looked worn. Her face was white as a sheet and her eyes were bloodshot as if she had been crying. She seemed tired, like she hadn't slept well in weeks. She sat at the table playing with her tea instead of consuming it.

"Chris, talk to me, please, what's going on?"

Christina let go of the cup and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She brushed her hair out of her face and glanced up at Mrs. Gruber. "Where to begin?" she said mostly to herself.

Mrs. Gruber pressed her thin lips together into a frown. From the girl's tone it sounded pretty bad. Christina looked to be at her limit and she was ready to snap. "Just start from the beginning dear, I'm here to help you."

"Your son and I are having serious problems," she told her mother-in-law. "Since we've come home he's been avoiding me. I can't talk to him and every time I try he rebukes me. I can't help him without him going off on me. Then just the other day he fired his physical therapist and said he was done working out. In the past week he's gone from anger and embarrassment to depression and I don't know how to reach him."

Christina was actually pleading with her. She was helpless and she was fearful for her husband. Mrs. Gruber knew all this worrying was not healthy for Christina and her unborn child. She was too stressed and it had to stop, for her daughter-in-law and her son's sake.

"Christina, I don't want you to torture yourself," Mrs. Gruber said, reaching over and taking her hand. "I will handle this. You go and try to relax; this is not good for you and the baby."

"You mean babies?" Christina corrected.

Mrs. Gruber opened her mouth to say something, but Christina spoke again. "Please don't tell Hans, I just found out a few weeks ago. I know we were supposed to find out together, but I couldn't wait anymore," she revealed, sounding a bit guilty.

Mrs. Gruber's face softened and she smiled. "It's quite understandable my dear, I know my son can be stubborn when he sets his mind on something. You go compose yourself, while I clean up this mess."

Christina was reluctant to leave, but after a moment of indecision she heaved herself up from the dinner table and headed for her bedroom. Mrs. Gruber took one last sip of her now warm tea. She set the cup down and stood up. She left the kitchen and began to search for her son who had hidden himself in the house somewhere.

After a few minutes of exploring, she found her son coming in from outside. She was going to questioned him on why he had been out in the freezing cold, but she decided to leave it alone. Hans had just pushed the sliding door closed, when he turned his chair and began to roll towards the living room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw his mother standing in his path, with a not too happy look fixed on her face.

"Mother," he acknowledged and made to move past her.

She moved again, blocking his path of escape once more. Hans narrowed his eyes, but otherwise didn't protest. He might have scolded his wife, but he knew he would not rude to his mother. Dragging up a few memories from his childhood reminded him why.

"I would like to have a chat with you," Mrs. Gruber announced. She was not asking, she was telling him she was going to have a conversation.

Hans knew that tone and nodded silently. He led his mother to the living room, where she sat down on the black leather sofa and Hans remained in wheelchair a few feet away. She studied her son's cheerless expression. He still looked the same, but like his wife, he was pale and looked stressed. They both needed to relax and stop fighting if they wanted things to go back to normal.

"You wanted to speak to me, mother?" Hans asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Yes, I just had a lovely discussion with your wife," Mrs. Gruber divulged. She paused when Hans groaned and rolled his eyes. She glared at him with a disapproving look, which made Hans quiet immediately.

"As I was saying," she continued, "your wife came to me and she sounded concerned for you. I've heard that over the past few weeks you've been avoiding and disrespectful to her."

"If she would just leave me alone and stop treating me like a child, I wouldn't have to tell her off," Hans defended himself.

"Christina is trying to help you, she loves you and she's trying to be there. Can't you understand that?"

"No, she pities me. I can hear it in her voice every time she asks me if I need help. I don't need anyone's pity."

"She doesn't pity, she's only worried and you're pushing her away," Mrs. Gruber explained to her son. "I understand if Christina is smothering you and I can ask her to back off, but you need to stop being rude to your wife and try to be a bit more tolerant."

"Why should I have to be tolerant?" There's nothing wrong with her," Hans answered harshly.

Mrs. Gruber was getting a bit frustrated with her son at the moment. He wasn't listening to anything she imparted to him and he was being rather guarded. "Have you forgotten that your wife is seven and half months pregnant? She's been so distraught that she's hardly taking care of herself."

"Well, if she paid attention to herself more than me, then we would not have any problems. So why don't you go and tell her I said that?"

Hams turned his wheelchair away and began rolling away. Mrs. Gruber stood up from the sofa. "Don't you walk away from me, young man," she growled at him.

Hans stopped his chair and slightly turned his head to the side so he could see his mother from the corner of his eye. "See, that's where you're wrong" he whispered. "I don't believe I'm walking away from you, mother, because if that were the case there wouldn't be a problem and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

With that Hans rolled out of sight. Mrs. Gruber wasn't done yet. She marched in the direction that Hans had just gone. A moment later she caught up with him in the middle of the long hallway. She stepped right in front of Hans and leaned down so she was right in her in his face.

"Now you listen to me," she commanded. "You will stop this selfish attitude, you will hire another physical therapist and you will begin your workouts again. "

Hans opened his mouth to yell something nasty, but his mother's hand shot forward grabbing his chin firmly, making him gaze into her eyes. "You will begin your therapy again," Mrs. Gruber repeated. "You will apologies to your wife and you will sit down and work things out between the two of you. Do you understand me, Hans? Because if your wife calls me over one more time to straighten you out, you will not like me very much afterwards."

Hans narrowed his eyes and spat. "I am not a child; you will not stand here and scold me like one."

"Then if you don't want to be treated like a child, then do not act like one."

She straighten up and walked past him toward the direction of the living room. Right before Mrs. Gruber turned the corner; she stopped and addressed her son. "Next time I see you and Christina, I expect her to tell me that everything has been resolved."

As Hans listen to his mother's retreating footsteps, he slowly loosened his grip that had been wrapped around the handle bars of his wheelchair. He ran a hand through his hair trying to regain his dignity that had been shattered a moment before. She had no right to tell him anything. It was his life and he would live it any way he saw fit and no one would tell him any differently.

* * *

><p><strong>That's right you do not mess with Hans' mother. You'll get snatched. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think is going to happen. The next chapter is called From Bad to Worse. So based on that, let know your predictions. Things are about to pop off, so stay tune and I promise you I'll make it worth your wild.<strong>


	10. From Bad to Worse

**Warnings this chapter is not for the faint of heart. MAJOR issues in the this one, you've been warned. Oh, one more thing before we begin. Thank you FallenHero93 for you prediction. You were way off, but I like your ideas, thanks again and enjoy the chapter. Evil Smirk. :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten: From Bad to Worse<strong>

Christina leaned again the kitchen wall; she stood there silently as the tears ran down her cheeks. She observed her husband who was sitting at the dinner table drinking his sixth bottle of beer. Since Hans' mother's visit a little of over three weeks ago, things had taken a turn for the worse. He had taken his mother's advice and not disrespected her anymore, but he had completely shut down and turned to alcohol for comfort.

Christina had been there as Hans and his mother had conversed. She had hidden behind a nearby wall close to the living room. At first she was going to do what her mother-in-law had suggested and go rest for a bit. She had actually journeyed into her bedroom and sat down on the bed, but after a few minutes her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she headed back to the living room.

She had approached with the intention to hear what Hans was going to reveal to his mother, that he didn't want to disclose to her. Sadly, he had not given up anything to Mrs. Gruber either. He had become very defensive and had blamed on their problems on her. That had hurt to listen to own husband confess those things about her to his mother. Granted, she did agree that she had been smothering him and she could leave him alone more, but she was only staying by his side because she cared. He had done the same thing when she had first told him she was pregnant. He had been so attentive; he treated her as if she was a fragile doll. She had told him to relax and everything was going to be alright.

Everything had been so perfect, all the way up to the point where he had planned to do the Nakatomi job. She had requested that he hold off until after the baby was born, but he had told her that everything was ready to go and he didn't want to start over. He had been planning the heist for months. So he had left. He kissed her goodbye at the airport and she had watched her husband walk away, but another man had returned in his place. She wanted her husband back and the man that was sitting at their kitchen table getting drunk was not him.

This could not go on any longer, he was destroying himself. He needed to fix himself up and if he didn't want to, she was going to make him for her sake and their children's. It sounded selfish to her ears, but if that was the only way, so be it, she would use it.

Christina moved from the wall, making her way to where her husband sat at the table. She reached out and plucked the glass that he was about to bring to his lips out of his hand. She grabbed the bottle as well and poured both out in the sink. She ignored Hans as he started roaring and swearing at her. That had been the most reaction she had gotten out of him in the past two weeks. She should take away his things more often, if he was going to react like that.

She rinsed the glass clean and set it aside. She turned to face her husband, who was staring at her eyes ablaze. "Are you finished?" she asked calmly. "Because this is going to stop," she told him sternly.

Hans chuckled. "You don't tell me what's going to stop."

Christina raised an eyebrow. Clearly he wasn't as drunk as she thought, if he could still think and talk straight. "Bring me back my drink and then get out."

"Excuse me, what did you say to me?" She was not going to put up with his behavior anymore.

"Give me back my drink and then get out," he repeated more forcefully.

Christina looked him dead in the eye when she answered. "No."

"No?"

"I don't have to explain the meaning of no to you, do I?"

Hans sneered at her and wheeled over to the fridge. He opened the door and grabbed another beer. His fingers had barely gripped the bottle when it was ripped out of his hand. His head snapped up to see his wife's enraged face standing over him with his beer in hand.

"ENOUGH!" she bellowed.

Her yelling had caught his attention. Never in the two years of marriage or anytime they had been together had she shouted like that. He sat there stunned as he watched her gently set down the bottle on the counter next to her.

She walked behind him and grabbed his wheelchair and began to rolling him out of the kitchen. He didn't protest, he just let her take him wherever she was heading. She pushed him into the bathroom, placing him in front of the mirror.

"Look at yourself," she said, gesturing towards the image.

Hans lifted his head and stared at his reflection. He looked terrible. His hair was filthy and in disarray. He hadn't shaved in two weeks and his well-groomed beard was fully grown out. He was pale, his eyes were bloodshot red and he was all sweaty.

"When is the last time you washed Hans, because you stink if you haven't noticed. In other words, you're a complete wreck. Are you going to really let this accident control your life or going to try to work through it and get back to normal? Because you have to do it, Hans, or you're going to destroy yourself. If not for yourself, at least do it for your family. Why don't you sit here and think about it?"

Christina turned without a glance in his direction and walked out slamming the door behind her, leaving Hans to gawk at the broken man which he had become.

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><p>Hans lay in the bathtub gazing up at the ceiling. The water had gone cold a while ago, but he was so deep in thought he hadn't paid much attention. He had hardly slept that night, Christina's words echoing in his mind over and over. She was pretty upset with him. If he really thought about it he could see why.<p>

For over a month he had been the worse person to live with. He had been angry, depressed and most of all he had been disrespectful to anyone that had confronted him about his issues. The past few weeks after his mother's visit, he hadn't cared anymore - like his wife said, he had hit rock bottom. Christina had dragged him into the bathroom, making him face himself. She was still bitter; she hadn't come to bed the previous night. He assumed that she had slept in the spare bedroom, he wasn't about to go look for her and suffer her wrath again. Hopefully she had cooled off enough so they could sit down and work things out. She had been right, everyone had been right - this couldn't go on any longer.

Hans had finished dressing and headed out the bathroom. He sat there in the middle of the hallway wondering where his wife had gone to. He wheeled himself into their bedroom and found she wasn't there. He checked the spare bedroom and also found it empty. He decided to head to the kitchen, she might have been there. He passed the screen door that led to the inside pool. He stopped and stared at it for a few moments. He hadn't been in there since he had ended his therapy - he actually liked the outside pool better, but it was freezing outside and the water was dirty from all the snow and debris that had built up during the season.

He moved on and reached the kitchen a second later. Hans was just about to sweep into the door when he heard voices. Hans made out his wife, his mother and brother all conversing. He decided not to go in and see what the topic of the day was, he was sure it was about his person. Who else would they be discussing?

"Do you think you were able to get through to him?" Mrs. Gruber asked her daughter-in-law.

They were all sitting at the kitchen table to have a spot of breakfast. Christina sighed before she answered the question. "Maybe, I haven't seen him today so don't know where he is right now."

"You don't know where he is? He could be anywhere," Mrs. Gruber complained.

"Good for him," she said, sounding frustrated. "He was the main one that kept complaining I was smothering him, so now he can have some alone time."

"Good for _you_, Christina," Simon encouraged while taking a swig of his drink. Mrs. Gruber frowned at her eldest son.

"What that's supposed to mean?" Christina demanded.

Simon shrugged and went back to his drink, but Christina didn't let it drop. She wanted to know what he meant and so did Hans who was still listening behind the wall.

"Come on Christina, he hasn't been the same since he returned from the States. Even you admitted that. He's been neglecting you."

"Simon, Hans has been through a lot. He can't walk or hardly do anything for himself. That is very degrading to someone. If you had a brain, you would realize that" Christina scolded him.

Simon placed his glass down on the table and folded his arms across his chest. "You didn't say that when you came running to me, about how your husband wasn't paying you any attention."

Christina closed her mouth and paled at Simon's word. "Who came crying to me when Hans yelled and disrespected you? Who listened to you all those hours when you complained about how he wasn't doing this and that?"

Simon took a breath; he looked Christina in the eye and whispered. "Who was it that took you to your doctor's appointment and sat there holding your hand when you learned that you were pregnant with twins?"

Christina was about to say something, but stopped when she saw her husband rolling into the room. He had an upset look on his face and it was directed right at his wife.

"Hans," she said, calling out to him. She could see that he had cleaned himself up - that didn't go unnoticed to the other two occupants of the room either.

"Hans, I see you fixed yourself up, good for you," Simon mocked him.

Hans briefly turned his gaze towards his brother, narrowing his eyes. "Simon, please?" his mother asked.

"You let him take you to your doctor's appointment?" Hans questioned his wife.

Christina opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out, she was unsure what to tell him, but Simon answered for her. "That's right, I did, she didn't think you were…how shall I say it… up for the job."

"I don't believe I was speaking to you," Hans spat at him. "Christina?"

"Yes, Simon took me to my appointment. "

"And what's this I hear - that your pregnant with twins? I was not made aware of this. "

"That's because you were too deep into your own depression to pay attention to anyone else's needs, but your own," Simon addressed Hans.

"As I said before, I was not talking to you, Simon."

"Ah, but little brother, I _was_ talking to you."

"But clearly I wasn't, so get out of my house; this is between me and my wife."

"Oh," Simon laughed, trying to pick a fight. "You're a big man now, trying to kick me out of your house. If you want me gone, come over here and do it yourself."

Hans turned his attention from his wife to his brother. "Get out," he repeated sternly.

Simon grinned and answered back. "Make me."

Hans sat there saying nothing as Simon continued his rant. "You can't, can you? You're just a helpless cripple who's bitter because he's useless to society."

"Simon, that is enough!" Mrs. Gruber yelled at her son.

"Why?" Simon asked, turning to his mother. "You've babied him since birth, it's time for little Hansy to know that he's no longer everyone's favorite star. "

Simon rose from the table and strolled over to Hans. Hans looked up at his brother, his face full of pure hatred. Simon leaned down so he was only an inch from Hans and muttered to him. "I guess the star has burned out, no one loves you anymore, not even your wife - that's why she came running to me."

Hans drew back his arm and planted a fist right in the center of Simon's face. Simon shuffled back, his hand flying to his mouth. He glanced at it, his fingers dripping with blood. He looked up from his bloody hand and back to his brother. He made a threating move towards him but Christina reached out, grabbing his arm and restrained him.

"Enough, both of you," she shouted at the two men. Simon jerked his arm from Christina and glared daggers at Hans. Christina turned to Simon. "You have no right to say those things to him," she chastised.

"Why?" Hans murmured. Everyone turned to look at him. "Why should he not say those things, it's what you've done."

"What?" she asked.

"Don't play innocent, Simon already told me enough. You go running over to him and talk to him about your problems and how you can't deal with me, how I'm not paying attention to you. If you had a problem, you should have come to me."

"I did, but that was the main problem, you weren't listening to anything I was trying to tell you."

"So? That didn't give you a right to run over to my brother. You are my wife; we deal with our own problems."

"Oh, now I'm your wife, all before you kept pushing me away, which is it? Am I your wife or not?" she asked, becoming angry.

"I don't know, you tell me?" Hans asked sarcastically.

"What?" Christina asked, taken aback.

"I wonder the reason why you didn't tell you were carrying twins is because they are not mine?"

"Are you crazy?" she inquired, shocked that he would even suggest that.

"I don't know." He turned his gaze on his brother. "Am I?"

"What are you saying?" Christina implored.

"Is my brother the father of your unborn children?"

"NO, how could you even entertain that idea?"

"Well, you are the one that's been running to him, but the big question is, how long has this been going? Do you run over there every time I leave or has this been going on since the beginning of our marriage?"

"Your mental," Simon snarled. "I see the accident has warped your brain and made you hallucinate."

"Am I hallucinating or is my wife some two timing whore?"

Christina gasped and stared at Hans, not believing what he had just uttered. Mrs. Gruber voice sounded like thundered as she reprimanded her son. "That's an enough Hans; you will not call her those things."

"Why not, mother?" Hans turned to the gray haired lady. "Why should I not call her out for what she is - a slut that sleeps with her brother-in-law and tries to pass her twins off as her husband's own children."

There was dead silence in the room. No one spoke as they glared at one another. The only thing that was heard was each individual's breathing. Finally Christina gathered herself. She spoke with all the venom she could muster.

"If you think that low of me then that is your problem, because I have stayed here and supported you through everything and have done what a wife is supposed to do. I have never cheated on you, because I love you. But since you don't love me, I will take my things and your unborn children, yes; your children and we will go to my sister's house so you don't have to worry about us anymore."

She moved to sweep past him and exit the kitchen, but Hans reached out and gripped her wrist, stopping her. "Christina wait..." Hans began feeling guilty. He knew he had gone too far.

"NO," she shouted, yanking her arm away. "You don't get to talk, you have gone too far this time and I will not put up with your behavior any more. I'm done; I'll mail you the divorce papers in a few days."

She pushed past him and continued to leave. Hans turned his chair and called after her. "Christina, please don't do this," he begged.

Christina stopped and turned to face him. With tears streaming down her face, she looked at her husband with contempt. "Just drop dead Hans, just drop dead." She then turned and headed towards their bedroom to pack her things.

Hans sat there frozen, gazing at the spot where his wife had just stood. He was too traumatized to think properly at the moment. He heard movement behind him and realized that his mother and brother were still there. He had no energy left to fight, he didn't care anymore.

"You can let yourselves out," Hans told them in a dead voice.

Mrs. Gruber and Simon watched Hans roll out of the kitchen looking defeated. When he was out of sight, Mrs. Gruber turned to her son with an angry look in her eye ready to blast him for his foolishness.

* * *

><p>Hans rolled himself into the living room. He sat there with his head staring at his lap. After a few minutes he lifted his head, glancing in the direction of his bedroom. He knew Christina was in there now doing whatever. He wondered if he should try and confront her again. He put his hands on his chair and began to move in that direction, but he stopped himself. She didn't want to see him right now or whenever. He backed up and headed over to the sliding glass door that led to the indoor pool. He went inside and came to another door that took him to the outdoor pool.<p>

Hans opened it and moved through. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He watched his breath blow away in the cold mid-morning. He slid the door shut behind him and slowly wheeled his chair up to the pool edge and surveyed the greenish water. It had to be less than forty degrees outside based on the light wind that was blowing on him. The water looked much colder. Although it wasn't frozen, it had chunks of ice floating. Small leaves and branches floated on the surface as well. He was surprised that he could see the bottom that of the twelve foot pool because the filthiness of the water.

Hans breathed the cold air into his lungs, trying to control his trembling. He didn't know if it was from the chilliness or the grief. He had messed up badly, he had gone to Christina this morning to tell her he was sorry for everything, but he had made things worse. He had accused his wife of cheating and called her a whore. That had been uncalled for.

He felt a sob escape him and the first tears travelled down his face. Christina was right he hadn't appreciated her. This whole time she had been there encouraging him, helping him and he hadn't seen it. He had taken his anger out on her and pushed her away. She had been nothing but supportive and he had thrown it in her face. Perhaps Simon had been right, the star had burned out and no one loved him. His wife no longer loved him for sure and now wanted to end things between them.

Hans eyed the pool more closely. Maybe he should end things himself. He had become useless; he would never walk again. He was making everyone around him miserable, including himself. He knew after his wife divorced him, he would have nothing left. He would be some cripple sitting in this house alone without anyone. No one cared from him anymore and neither did he, so what was the point in continuing to live? Hans took his gaze off the pool and looked up at the sky. There was no sun and the gray thunder clouds silently moved by. It was a wretched cold day and that was just how he felt inside, cold.

Hans began to back away from the edge all the way up to the screen door behind him. He took one more look around. He closed his watery eyes and took his last deep breath to try to calm his breathing and get himself to relax. His body wouldn't, the trembling began to increase. He opened his eyes and fixed his gaze onto his soon to be watery tomb. One leap into the pool and less than two minutes everything would be over he told himself.

His fingers gripped the wheels of his chair and began to move forward. He came closer and closer, his chair picking up speed. Before long all he saw was the green water and nothing more. A split second later, his chair hit the edge. He and his chair went flying into the pool, hitting the water face first and immediately began to sink like stone. As he sank, the water soaked through his clothes, hitting his skin. The icy water smashed into him like a thousand knifes stabbing him all over. He gasped from the shock trying to breathe, but all his lungs sucked in was chilled water. His upper body struggled a bit, but no more than thirty seconds later it became too tired and gave up the fight.

He was losing consciousness fast, probably from all the water he had breathed into his lungs. Hans' body relaxed and sunk lower and lower into the waiting hands of death. He did not see any flashes of his life before his eyes. Instead, his last conscious thought was of the dream he had of his unborn children's and their smiling faces. A part of him was sorry he had done this - now he would never know what they would be like.

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><p><strong>HansGruberForever has hid and taken shelter, as arrows coming flying at her, because she ended this with a huge cliffhanger. She is waiting to receive hate mail from her readers for doing this to everyone's favorite character. The next chapter is coming soon, stay tune. I make no promise that Hans will live, remember its called healing. I never said he was the one that has to heal. Review (I love drama). Ha ha ha.<strong>


	11. FIGHT!

**Hello all. I know, this chapter was suppose to be out a week ago, but this one was really hard to write. But its here now. Please don't hate me I tried I really did, I've never written anything like this before. Plus I had to do a bit of research on this chapter, to make sure everything was correct. Don't throw to many stones at me, enjoy. I know did when I wrote this chapter. By the way the poems aren't mine.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: FIGHT!<strong>

Christina was in her and Hans' bedroom ripping her clothes from their closet. All of Hans' outfits were either on the floor of the wardrobe or thrown around the room. Christina had her suitcase open on top of the bed. Her clothes were hanging over on the side suitcase or on the bed where she had missed tossing them into the bag.

When she finished with the closet, she marched over towards the bed. Without bothering to fold her clothes, she began shoving things inside. She turned from the suitcase and towards the bedside table. She forced the drawers open and gathered her personal effects. She cursed her husband the whole time as snatched her items and threw them in her luggage. Once finished going through the nightstand, she took one last glance around the room to make sure she didn't leave anything. Once she left, she had no desire to return.

Just to make sure, Christina checked the closet one last time. She looked around, but found none of her clothes. She was about to shut the closet door when something caught her attention. She spotted her old black square box stuffed in a corner. She grabbed it and without looking, chucked it across the room at her open bag.

It didn't make it. The box hit the side of the bed and bounced off, hitting the floor. The container broke open, scattering its contents on the floor. Christina turned and surveyed what she had done. She rolled her eyes and groaned. She stood there a moment debating whether she should pick it up. It was not easy to bend over being eight months pregnant with twins. She decided not to worry about it and stepped over the mess. She walked over to her suitcase and slammed it shut. She headed towards the door to call for Simon to take her luggage out to the car, when something on the floor caught her eye.

Christina looked down and saw a white book lying on the floorboards. She walked over to the bed and used her hand to brace herself on the mattress while the other hand reached down and grabbed the book. By the time she achieved this and was standing straight up again, she was breathing heavily. Christina sat down on the bed and opened the book. It was a photo album of her life.

There were many pictures of her childhood. There were photos of her parents, her sister and her, when she was a kid. There were lots of photos of her teenage years and even pictures that she had taken with old boyfriends during that time. She flipped the page and stopped and stared at the collection of photos of her and Hans when they had been dating. There were so many of them, she realized. She turned the page again and this time her eyes fell on a pink card. She became curious. Christina stuck her finger under the plastic and fished it out. She set the photo album aside and opened the card. As she looked at the paper's date, she realized that it was the card that Hans had given her the night he had proposed. She began to read.

It's when I see you smiling

That I know it must be real

And when you look my way

Your love for me I feel

Whenever you hold me

In those arms that are so sweet

I always seem to melt inside

Yet feel just so complete

So now I want to say one thing

To you and you alone

That everything about you babe

Has made my heart a place called home

Don't wanna take the chance

Of ever letting you go

So as I take your hand

I want you to know

I'm in love with you, I fall for you

Every single day

And I want to hold on to you

In each and every way

So if you don't mind

I just have to say

Will you be my forever

Will you always stay?

Will you be my lover

For more then just today?

Will you marry me, my love?

That's all I wanna say...

Christina felt the tears slip down her face anew. Not from sadness but from the happiness. She remembered that night like it had been yesterday. They had been so happy back then. She looked over to the blue card that was on the next page. She pulled it out and read it too. It was the poem she had written to him after his proposal.

Life is full of love and hate

Lessons learned decisions made.

All the choices that you make

Effect the road that you take.

Everyone but us can see

What's down the road for you and me?

There's this look in your eyes

Like there's something that you hide.

You are sitting on one knee

Asking will you marry me.

I say yes and start to cry

I will love you till I die.

She closed the cards and placed them against her chest, sobs over taking her body. She couldn't believe how much they were in love back then. As she looked down at the two cards in her hand, she realized how much she was still in love with him even now after everything. She knew deep down he still had the same feelings. He was only striking out at everyone because he was hurt.

The day she had gotten married, her mother had told her that marriage involved many hardships and there would be many fights. Sometimes they would think there was no way they could live with one another, but as long as if both of them were willing to try there was always hope. Christina gently set the card down on the bed beside her. She wiped the last of her tears away.

Her mother had been right, if both of them were willing to work things out they had a chance and she was not going to give up on their marriage so easily. She stood up proudly, thinking it was time to save their marriage. She wouldn't let the accident destroy what she worked so hard to try and keep together. She was going to fight for them.

Christina exited her bedroom and headed down the hallway. As she walked she could hear the raised voices of Simon and Mrs. Gruber coming from the kitchen. Christina frowned; she doubted Hans was still in there. She moved into the living room and found it was empty as well. She was about to leave the parlor and head into the kitchen when she noticed the sliding door was open.

She walked over to it and poked her head inside. She didn't see anything. She walked inside the room and stepped towards the door that led to the outdoor pool. It was closed, but it didn't hurt to check. She opened the door and was immediately hit in the face with cold air. She strolled out onto the stone patio. She didn't see him out here and turned to go. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of something silver at the bottom of the pool. She turned back around and stepped towards the edge.

What she found made her feel sick. She saw her husband's wheelchair laying at the lowermost part of the pool and a few feet away her husband's body.

Christina's piercing scream echoed through the patio.

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><p>"Why would you say that to him?" Mrs. Gruber yelled at her son Simon.<p>

Simon didn't say anything, he just shrugged his shoulders. He had a tissue in hand and was cleaning the blood off his split lip. It wasn't bleeding as bad as it had been a few minutes before - even if Hans couldn't walk anymore, he still packed a powerful punch.

"Are you going to answer me, Simon?" his mother demanded.

Simon moved over to the trash can and tossed the napkin inside. He moved back to his mother. "He deserved what I told him."

"Why do you say that?" she questioned. Mrs. Gruber had never understood the feud between her two boys.

"Because since birth he's walked around like he's some super star. You and dad favored him over me."

Mrs. Gruber sighed and shook her head. The same old argument again, this was not the first time Simon had informed her of this. She was about to answer back when a scream echoed through the house.

They both froze regarding one another, silently questioning each other on if they both had heard a scream. It sounded like it had come from the back patio. Simon moved over to the kitchen door listening intently. The scream sounded again a moment later. This time Simon reacted and raced out of the room. He ran into the living room and stopped, being unsure where the screaming was coming from.

He quickly searched the room for any signs, when his eyes fell on the slightly ajar door, leading to the pool. Simon headed outside. He found Christina with her back to him standing at the edge of the pool shaking. He ran up to her.

"Christina, what's wrong?" Simon asked alarmed. She was crying and trembling.

"The pool, the pool, he's in the pool," she cried.

Simon followed Christina's gaze. He searched the water for a few seconds when his eyes came upon a frightening sight. His brother was lying at the bottom of the swimming pool. Without hesitating, he dived headfirst into the freezing green liquid. Christina watched her brother-in-law swim downward. She was so wrapped up in the scene that was taking place in front of her she barely registered Mrs. Gruber had step up beside her.

Both hysterically women observed Simon reach the bottom of the pool, coming alongside of Hans. Simon reached out and grabbed Hans' body, which was a lot lighter than he had expected it to be. Simon kicked off the bottom of the pool and began swimming upward, with his brother in tow.

A moment later they broke the surface, Simon gasping for air, trying to catch his breath. He began dragging himself and his brother towards the pool stairs. Christina ran around to the other side of the pool. By the time she reached them, Simon had made it to the stairs and was now pulling Hans into his arms. He walked up the remaining steps towards Christina.

"Let's get him in the house."

They moved quickly inside. They made it into the parlor, where Simon laid out Hans' limp body on the carpet. Simon kneeled beside him and began unbuttoning his brother's collar. He exposed Hans' pale bluish neck. Simon pressed his fingers into the side of Hans' neck searching for a pulse. After a few seconds, he swore under his breath when he didn't find one.

He straightened Hans out so he was lying flat on his back. "Mother, call Dr. Gottschalk and explain to him what's happened. Wait for him, he shouldn't take long getting here," Simon instructed her.

Mrs. Gruber immediately rushed out of the room, leaving Simon and Christina alone. Christina rushed over to them, kneeling down on Hans' right side, while Simon was on his left. Simon ripped open the rest of Hans' shirt, sending buttons across the floor. He placed his hands upon the left Hans' chest right above his sternum. He pressed down, beginning chest compressions. Christina grabbed onto her husband's lifeless hand. It was cold and stiff. She felt more tears slip down her face. She should have been watching him; he would have never fallen into the pool.

When Simon hit a count of thirty on the chest compression, he leaned over, tipping Hans' head back, pinching his nose, drawing a breath - a deep breath and sealed his lips over Hans' cold blue ones. Simon watched Hans' chest as he exhaled, willing life into his body. Simon gave him another and then began compression again. His shoulders began to protest as he worked cycle after cycle trying to save his brother. Driven by a force he couldn't name, he wouldn't give up. Simon knew it must have been over five minutes since he had started trying to revive Hans and every second that passed was less hope that he would come back.

"Come breathe," Simon chanted over and over. "Don't you die on me Hans, FIGHT!"

He gave Hans two more breathes, when Simon sat up to catch his. He began again. As he worked, he could feel Hans' rib shifting under his fingers. He knew he had already broken two or three of his ribs, because of the pressure he was applying. He felt the first tears begin to slip down his face as the realization dawned on him, that his brother might be dead.

"Oh God no, don't die on me, please don't die on me!" he pleaded, before trying again. And again and again and…

Hans' chest heaved, and Simon got a mouthful of water before he could pull away. Simon eased Hans onto his side, his left cheek pressed into the carpet. Simon watched him vomit greenish water. Hans' breathing was shallow and uneven. He was shivering from shock or the cold, Simon didn't know. At least he was alive, that was all that mattered at the moment.

He flipped Hans on to his back. He glanced up at Christina's tear stained face. "Chris, he's alive, but I need your help until the Dr. Gottschalk gets here."

Christina nodded. "W-what d-do you need me to do?"

"Get these wet clothes off of him; I'm going to get some blankets."

Simon stood up and jogged out of the room. Christina began carefully undressing her husband. She carefully lifted Hans' shoulder and stripped the soaking wet shirt off of him and discarded it. As she worked in ridding her husband of his clothes, she was shaking. She tried to keep herself calm, for her husband's sake.

When Simon reentered the room, he saw that Christina had finished disrobing Hans and had left him in his boxers. He had a heavy quilt in hand. He kneeled back down and spread it over Hans. He wrapped Hans in the blanket tightly to try to keep him warm. He glanced up at Christina and saw she was sitting by his head. She lightly ran her fingers through his wet hair. They sat there in silence and waited for Dr. Gottschalk to show up.

Eight minutes went by, where Simon sat next to his brother and closely monitored his breathing. Hans was still trembling and his skin was still bluish, but it wasn't as discolored as it had been before he had revived him. Simon was just about to go and find his mother when he heard the front door open and close. He heard two voices, one calm and the other hysterical. Dr. Gottschalk and Mrs. Gruber entered the living room. Simon moved aside so the doctor could examine Hans.

Dr. Gottschalk moved the sheet aside. He checked Hans' pulse and breathing. He reached into his bag and pulled out a thermometer and stuck it in Hans' mouth. "He fell in the pool?" Dr. Gottschalk questioned.

"Yes," Simon answered.

Gottschalk took out a mini flashlight. He pried open Hans' eyelids and flashed the light in his eyes. "Has he regained consciousness at all?"

Simon shook his head. "No, after I revived him he just vomited up water, but that's it."

The thermometer beeped and Gottschalk read the results. He frowned at what he saw. "His core temperature is too low; I need to warm him up." He quickly covered Hans back up with the blanket. "He has moderate hypothermia, I need to get his temperature up now or he'll get worse."

Gottschalk began gathering up his equipment. "Mrs. Gruber, come with me, I need your help." He stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder, while he turned to Simon and Christina. "Stay with him and keep him as warm as possible. If he worsens call, I'll be in the bathroom running a hot bath."

Five minutes later, Gottschalk came back. The three of them carried Hans' limp body down the hall into the bathroom, where Mrs. Gruber waited by the half-filled tub of water. They carefully lowered him into the lukewarm water. Gottschalk rubbed it all over Hans' skin trying to warm him up. A few minutes later, he asked Christina to take over. As they worked, Gottschalk constantly checked Hans' temperature. As it rose, the doctor ran more water in the tub.

At the head the tub they heard a groan. They looked up and saw Hans' head moving back and forth. A second later his eyes popped open. He looked dazed and confused. Gottschalk reached out and turned Hans' face so he was focused on him.

"Hans, can you hear me?" Gottschalk asked.

Hans stared up at Gottschalk with glassy eyes. He was having a hard time concentrating on the shape in front of him. All he knew was he was cold and in pain.

"Hans, squeeze my hand if you can hear me," Gottschalk ordered. He waited ten seconds when he felt Hans lightly squeeze his fingers. "Good." Gottschalk took Hans' wrist and measured his pulse. When he was satisfied he placed Hans' hand on the side of the tub.

"How is he?" Mrs. Gruber asked, sounding worried.

"He's doing better," he reassured her. "His temperature is raising and his pulse is a bit stronger. I'm going to keep him in here for another ten minutes, just to be on the safe side."

Gottschalk turned back to see if Hans was still conscious. He was - his eyes were open. Gottschalk also could see he was in a great deal of pain based on how he was holding his upper body ridged. He reached out a hand and gently podded Hans' side. Hans flinched. He tensed up and tried to pull away, but cried out in pain as he felt his broken ribs shift.

Gottschalk placed a firm hand on Hans' shoulder to try to keep him from squirming. "Keep still. I know it hurts - I'll take care of it, but you'll have to stay here a bit longer."

Simon sat by the end of the tub and watched his brother with a sober expression. "I didn't mean to hurt him; I broke a few of his ribs when I was trying to resuscitate him."

"It's fine, Simon, your actions have saved his life. A few broken ribs won't make any differences, he should be ok," Gottschalk assured him.

Ten minutes later, Gottschalk deemed it safe to take Hans from the bathtub. They carefully took him to his bedroom and placed him on his bed. The doctor kicked them out of the room so he could sort Hans out. Christina, Mrs. Gruber and Simon waited in the living room. The two women sat on the sofa, while Simon paced back and forth in front of them. They sat quietly. The only thing that was heard was Simon's feet burning a hole in the carpet, with his fierce pacing.

They had no idea how long they had been waiting, when Gottschalk stepped into the room. As soon as the family saw him, they immediately surrounded him and bombarded him with questions. He held up a hand to try to calm them down, so he could answer their inquiries.

"It's alright, he'll be fine. I set and wrapped his ribs. He will be sore for a few weeks but otherwise he'll make a full recovery." As soon as those words left the doctor's mouth the tension in the room dissipated. They were all relieved that Hans was going to be alright, but Gottschalk had a few questions of his own he wanted answered.

"I was wondering how Hans end up in the pool in the first place?" he asked.

Mrs. Gruber and Simon looked at Christina. She glanced at them and then turned to the doctor. "I don't know. I just found him in the pool. I assume he just fell in and because of his accident he couldn't swim."

Gottschalk nodded but didn't seem completely satisfied. "I want to check something, I'll be back momentarily," he announced.

Gottschalk went through the sliding door and stepped outside into the outdoor pool area. He examined the stone patio and carefully studied the black streaks that extended from the door to the edge of the pool. The doctor strolled over to the side of the pool and inspected the murky water. He found Hans' wheelchair lying in the middle of the pool. A theory began to form in Gottschalk's mind and he didn't like it one bit.

He walked into Hans' bedroom, where his family was gathered round his bed. Gottschalk closed the door, announcing his presence. Christina glanced up at the doctor from where she sat next to her sleeping husband. He saw Christina holding Hans' hand and gently running her hand through his hair.

"I examined your pool," Gottschalk told Christina.

"And what did you find?"

Gottschalk sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He wanted to learn a few facts before he disclosed his theory to her. "Has Hans been depressed lately?"

Christina nodded. "We've been having serious problems."

"What sort of problems?"

"Recently he started drinking heavily, I confronted him about it."

"You said he was depressed? I went outside and examined the pool area. Did you know there are black streak marks leading from the door towards the edge of the pool?"

"So?" Simon said.

"You pulled him out of the water yourself, Simon. Where was his body - in the middle or on the side of the pool?"

"What are you trying to say?" Mrs. Gruber demanded.

Gottschalk looked at the three people in front him sadly. Christina gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, the realization dawning on her. "You're saying he tried to kill himself?"

"I do."

"NO!" Simon hollered. "He would never."

"Oh God, this is all my fault," Christina cried.

"Why is it your fault?" Gottschalk investigated.

Through her tears she began to tell him. "We had a huge argument this morning. He accused me of cheating on him, but I told him it wasn't true. We were already having serious problems, so I told him since he couldn't trust me I was going to my sister's house and I would mail him the divorces papers. He immediately tried to apologizes, but I wouldn't hear him out. I told him to drop dead."

Christina froze. "That's what set him off, I basically told him to kill himself. I'm so sorry - I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it."

Gottschalk stood there listening to Christina's cries before he said. "I don't believe this is your fault. I suggest you speak to your husband when he awakes. Only he can fully answer your questions."

Gottschalk glanced at the unconscious figure on the bed. He had known Hans since he was a boy, it was sad to see how low he had fallen.


	12. Why?

**And here we are everyone, chapter 12. There will be one more chapter after this and we'll be done. Then I can get back to my other stories. The last chapter is already written just waiting to be edited. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to review. P.S. the poems in chapter eleven were taking from online. I don't write poetry and I wasn't going to waste time trying to write something I get no enjoyment out of. If your interested you can google proposal poems. There are some really good ones out there.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: Why?<strong>

The room was spinning when he opened his eyes. Hans blinked a few times to clear his vision. He had a splitting headache. The pain was vibrating through his skull and he felt he was going to lose consciousness any second. A moan escaped his lips. A loud rustle came from the side of the room. He turned his head and saw a figure standing in the shadows. Hans squinted, trying to make out the scene in front of him. He didn't have to wait for long. The dark figure stepped out of the shadows and revealed themselves as Dr. Gottschalk.

"Good to see you're awake, Hans," he addressed him calmly.

Hans fluttered his eyes a few times to see if he was imagining things. When the figure that stood in front him remained, he deemed he was indeed alive and well. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. He did not want to deal with this right now; if his plan had gone as it should have, he wouldn't have to.

Gottschalk stepped forward towards the side of Hans' bed. "I bet you have a terrible headache at the moment."

Hans didn't respond, he just lay there with his eyes closed, trying block out the world. Gottschalk frowned at Hans' behavior and shook his head sadly. He reached down, picking up a glass of water and two aspirin tablets. "Hans, turn over, I need you take this."

Hans ignored the doctor and remained still. Gottschalk took a deep breath and blew it out trying to compose his frustration. He waited thirty seconds before he spoke again. "I will leave you to wallow in depression if you turn over and take this" he told Hans.

Hans turned his neck and faced the doctor. Gottschalk observed him closely. Hans' skin had regained most of its color and he didn't look as dazed as he had been eighteen hours before. He helped him sit up, placing the plump pillows behind him to support his back. Gottschalk went to hand Hans the glass of water and the aspirins. When Hans raised his hand to take it, it was shaking. Gottschalk sighed and placed Hans' hand back down on his lap. He wouldn't be able to hold the cup without dropping it.

"Open up," the physician ordered.

Hans opened his mouth. Gottschalk placed the tablets on his tongue and brought the glass of water to his lips. Hans swallowed the medication down. "Now get out," Hans told him rudely.

Gottschalk placed the stuff back on the table. "Oh, I will get out, as you put it, but I think you should speak to your wife," he suggested.

"Why, I thought she left?"

"No, who do you think found you when decided it was good idea to drown yourself?"

Hans stopped taking in Gottschalk's words. He closed his eyes trying to swallow the guilt. "I didn't want her to see me like that," he confessed.

"Well, that was out of your control when you launched yourself into your pool," he said harshly.

"That is none of your business!"

Gottschalk became enraged at Hans's ungratefulness. "It became my business when your mother called me. She was hysterical. She believed that you were dead. Clinically you were, but Simon managed to revive you."

"Oh, am I supposed to thank him now?" Hans asked sarcastically.

"It's up to you. I believe you didn't really want to kill yourself, it was after all a poor attempted," the doctor concluded. "I think it was a quick decision, made in the heat of the moment."

"You know nothing," Hans spat.

"Oh?" Gottschalk said raising an eyebrow. "I think I just hit the nail on the head. Your wife told me you two had a fight right before your attempt of suicide."

Hans sat quietly. He was unwilling to support the doctor's theory. "She blames herself," Gottschalk informed him.

Hans' head shot up and he stared at the doctor in disbelief. After a moment he said: "She shouldn't, it wasn't her fault, it was mine."

Gottschalk walked forward. "You need to speak to her, works things out."

"Why?" Hans asked coldly. "She doesn't want me anymore, she said so herself. So what's the point of living?"

Dr. Gottschalk sat down in the chair next to him. "Ah, so that's what set you off?" he realized. "You figured there was no point in living if your wife left. You were already disabled and you wouldn't have anything left to live for. So you decided to take the easy way out."

"You make it sound so simple," Hans mumbled.

"It is."

"Well, it's also true."

"One part is - you are disabled, but you haven't lost your wife."

"What do you know? NOTHING!"

"But I do Hans, but I do," Gottschalk stated. "Since you've been unconscious, your wife has barely left your side. She's been worried sick, now does that seem like a woman that doesn't care for you anymore?"

When Hans didn't answer, the doctor stood and headed towards the door. "I'm going to bring her in now, try to hear her out."

Gottschalk stood and headed over towards the door. He opened it and stepped into the hallway. He was a few feet away from the door, Hans observed. He could see the doctor's shadow casting on the wall. Gottschalk was speaking to someone. Hans assumed it was his wife. A moment later Christina was entering the room, shutting the door behind her.

Hans surveyed his wife as she stepped over toward the chair, which sat near his bed. It was like he was seeing her for the first time in months. She was heavily pregnant. Her long midnight hair hung loosely down her back and her eyes where bloodshot. Christina was pale and she looked drained. Hans felt his breath hitch. He was the one that had caused all her distress.

Christina eased herself into the chair. She looked him right in the eyes. Hans turned his head away unable to stand her haunting gaze. It made him feel so guilty. She wouldn't look away; it was almost like she was seeing him the first time in months as well.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, unsure what to say.

Christina sat there for a moment before she addressed him. "Don't apologize for something you don't mean." Hans lifted his head, finally meeting her gaze, surprised at what she had just told him. "You're not sorry for trying to kill yourself."

Hans shook his head slowly. "No, I'm sorry for making you feel guilty, I'm sorry for calling you a whore, I apologize for making your life a living hell these past few months."

"So now you get it?" Christina asked harshly. She had been worried about him early, but as she sat and spoke with him, she felt her anger rise once more. "I've been trying to get through to you for months; I see it takes a near death experience to see the error of your ways."

Hans took a deep breath. He wanted Christina to remain calm; he could tell she was getting upset by the tone of her voice. "Christina," he began, but she cut him off.

"Why?" she asked him desperately. "Why would you try to kill yourself? Do you care nothing for me or your unborn children?"

Hans didn't say anything; he just sat there staring at her. She was getting frustrated with his lack of answers. "Tell me," she shrieked.

Hans swallowed nervously. "I thought it would be best."

Christina opened her mouth in shock, not believing what he was trying to say. "Better for whom, for you? You think killing yourself was going to do me some good? How did you come to that conclusion?"

"You yourself said you wanted a divorce, so instead of going all through the trouble of the paperwork, I saved you a step."

"You think that's what I wanted? I was upset at the time. You called me those horrible names. I was going to leave for a few days, but wasn't going to really divorce you and even if I was, there is no reason to kill yourself over it."

Hans closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head. "You don't get it?" He looked up at his wife's confused face. "You were the last thing."

Christina still stared at her husband, completely lost. "McClain took everything from me that night," he informed her. "That night in the Nakatomi building, my life changed completely. McClain should have killed me. He took away everything else. My legs, my dignity, I can't do even the simplest things anymore. When you said you wanted a divorce, which was last thing I had. So if you were gone, what was the point of going on, when I had nothing left?"

Christina sat stiffly in her seat. She watched her husband's faces. He looked so hurt and lost. She would have never threatened to leave him, if she had known it would cause him this much distress. She felt his pain, and it hurt her heart to see how low her husband had sunk. Not knowing what else to do, she reached out and pulled him to her arms. Hans' face lay against her breasts, while her hand ran gently through his hair.

"McClain should have just killed me, he's taken everything else, why not my life too?" he whispered.

Christina closed her eyes a moment and breathed through her nose, trying to keep herself calm, for her husband's sake. "You're wrong Hans; you still have your life and me. I'm not going to leave you, I love you."

Hans lifted his head and gazed into his wife's green eyes. "I love you," she told him again. "I am not going to divorce you. You have your life and your family, McClain didn't take that away."

"How could you want to possibly stay with someone like me? I can't walk. I can barely get around my own house, I can't…"

She shushed him with a finger pressed against his lips. "I don't care what you can't do. All that matters is what you still can do. You can still be a father to your children, a good husband, loving, caring, kind, be the man that you used to be. I won't leave you if you never walk again. Remember our marriage vows. We got married for better or for worse. We're not in best situation right now, but we're not in the worse one either. I can think of a hundred worse case scenarios. You could be dead, a vegetable or even paralyzed, but you're not. I told you before that you have to get back to normal for your family's sake, but I was wrong. You have to get back for your own."

Christina reached out and wiped away the tears that slowly leaked down Hans' pale cheeks. "Do you still want to die?" she asked him.

"I don't know, but I did regret it," Hans confessed. "I don't know what to do anymore, I'm so lost."

He felt himself losing control, the sobs starting to rack his body, making him tremble uncontrollably. "Shh, it's alright, I'm here," Christina said, reaching out and drawing him into her arms once again. "I'm here, just lean on me and I'll be here to help... but you have to be willing to try. Are you willing?"

"Yes," he whispered, not truly sure what he wanted to do anymore.

"Good, that's all I ask for now. Don't worry; I'll be here every step of the way. We'll get through this together, just wait and have hope."


	13. Hope

**So here it is everybody, the last chapter of healing. This story was never suppose to take this long to write, but things happen. I want to thank everyone for their support and their reviews. Hoped you enjoyed. Check out my other Die Hard stories, I think they will be to your liking.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Hope<strong>

"Take a deep breath and push through the pain, Hans," the physical therapist encouraged him.

Hans stood between the parallel bars, supporting himself on shaky arms. His therapist stood a few paces in front of him with his arms outstretched, in case Hans lost his balance and tumbled. Christina was standing on the other side of the room, watching her husband anxiously. She had persuaded him to begin his physical therapy once more. At first he hadn't agreed, but she had assured him that she wouldn't leave him alone.

Hans and his therapist had been working diligently. The therapist had come by every day and worked with Hans for hours. They had done many long and painful exercises to build up his strength, so he could try working out on the parallel bars. Hans had tried the bars two months prior, but he was unsuccessful. His back and legs hadn't completely healed at the time.

As Christina watched, she could see Hans' strength was failing. He hadn't taken any steps yet. Hopefully today would be the day he would begin to take the first steps in his recovery. She continued to stand there. She wanted to give him a bit of motivation, but she decided to keep quiet, instead of breaking his concentration.

Hans could feel his arms losing their strength. He was holding much of his weight on his arms. His feet were on the mat, but he was hardly putting any pressure on them. He had been on the parallel bars every day and he still was unable to take a step. His strength had either given out on him or the pain had been too overwhelming to continue. Today his therapist had been pushing him harder. They had started off a bit different that morning.

His physical therapist had started him in the pool, to do his aerobics exercises. He said it would loosen up his muscles and help with the discomfort. It had worked to an extent, but he was still sore. He could deal with it a bit better, though. Today he was determined to walk, even if it was only one or two steps.

Hans continued to push through the pain and tried get his feet to move across the floor. He still had very little control over the movement of his legs, but all of the feeling had come back. He stared down at his feet clenching his teeth, while sweat rolled down the side of his face. He stood stock still for a moment, his body tense. He slowly raised an unsteady foot, which trembled. He set in back on the mat and then lifted his right foot.

Christina eyes widened as she watched her husband take his first steps. She opened his mouth to cheer him on, but covered her lips with her hand immediately. She didn't want to startle him; he was already having a hard enough time. She surveyed him take four more steps before his arms gave out and he collapsed into his therapist's arms. The therapist gently lowered Hans onto the mat. Christina went to move towards them, but the trainer held up his hand to stop her. She stood still with her hands folded in front of her, observing the two men.

The therapist had Hans sitting on the gym mat. He stood up and pushed the parallel bars to the side so he could lay his client down on the mat. In a moment he had Hans stretched on his stomach with a hot pack on his back. He stood over Hans, making sure he was comfortable.

"Just breathe through the pain and focus of the hot pack," he told his patient. "Try to relax your muscles and let the tension flow out of them."

He let Hans lie on the mat for twenty minutes, letting the pain leave his body. When he saw that Hans was finally relaxed, he waved Christina over. She walked over a little hesitant, unsure how Hans would react. Since their talk all those weeks ago, Hans hadn't yelled at her or done anything remotely disrespectful. He had been mostly quiet. She had kept her promise in keeping her space. She didn't nag him so much anymore, but kept a close eye on him. She had been really nervous leaving him alone after his suicide attempt, lest he attempt another one. She had tried to be discreet about looking after him, but she believed that Hans had caught on to what she was doing.

"Could you wheel over his chair?" the therapist asked.

Christina obliged and rolled the wheelchair over to Hans and the trainer. The therapist placed a hand on Hans' back and carefully rolled him over into a sitting position. Christina and the therapist helped Hans into his chair. Hans didn't complain - he was too worn out to care.

"You did well today, Hans," therapist addressed his patient. "Perhaps we should take a few days off and let you recuperate."

Hans shook his head. "No, I want to continue tomorrow," he demanded.

The therapist gave a small smile and nodded. "All right, we'll pick up where we left off tomorrow, but remember you're not to use the parallel bars by yourself."

Hans nodded in agreement. He then turned his chair and exited the room. Christina watched her husband disappear round the corner before she turned back to the physical therapist. "I'm glad that he was able to take a few steps," she stated.

"He's coming along nicely, better than I expected" the therapist told her.

Christina hesitated for a moment. She wanted to ask a question but she unsure if she wanted to hear the answer if it wasn't in her favor.

"I see you want to ask me something, go ahead and investigate away."

Christina took a deep breath, gazing up at the therapist. "Do you think he has a chance of getting back to the way he was before the accident?"

The trainer stood there a few seconds thinking. He rubbed his hand down the side of his face. He sighed before answering. "I'm not sure. I think he has a chance with the progress he showed today. He might need additional back surgeries to help, but perhaps you should consult Dr. Gottschalk. He could give a better answer than I could. He should examine Hans again."

"Thank you. I'll take you up on your advice and call the doctor. I'll see you tomorrow."

Christina left the workout room and found Hans in the living room watching television. She figured he wanted to be left alone, so she decided to go make dinner. She headed to the kitchen and moved over to cabinet. She went to reach up toward the opened cabinet door, when a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She stopped and pressed her hand against her large belly. She slowly breathed in and out waiting for them to pass. She had been having these sharp pains for the last few days. It was bound to get worse; the babies were due any day now.

The pain passed a few minutes later and Christina sighed in relief. Was she in labor? No, she said, shaking off the thought. She still had at least a week left before she gave birth. She brought down the various foods from the cabinet and refrigerator. As she got ready to prepare the food, a thought popped into her head. Perhaps she should call Dr. Gottschalk over today, so he could examine Hans. Christina decided that sounded like a good idea.

She moved over to the phone that hung on the wall near the kitchen door. She picked it up and dialed the number. She spoke to the doctor and explained the events that had transpired that day. Gottschalk sounded happy and agreed that he would come right over and take a look at things. She talked to him a bit more, before she hung up the phone. She turned back to the stove and got ready to cook the food when the doorbell rang.

She sighed and turned the stove off and headed out of the kitchen towards the front door. She opened the door and saw that Simon and Hans' mother stood before her. She greeted and invited them in. She brought them back to the kitchen. As soon as Mrs. Gruber sat down in her chair, she asked about her son.

"He's doing much better. Hans has been working with his therapist every day for the last few weeks," Christina divulged. "Today he even managed to take a few steps on the parallel bars."

Mrs. Gruber smiled, glad that her son had been making progress. And to think he had quit his therapy before... All he needed was to be patient and he would get better – well, hopefully.

"Will he be able to walk again?" Simon asked, speaking for the first time since he had entered the house.

Christina shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure. I spoke to his physical therapist. He advised that Dr. Gottschalk examine him once more, to get a better opinion. I called him right before you got here and he agreed to come right over. "

"That's good; hopefully the doctor will give him some satisfactory news for a change," Simon expressed. He didn't seem too comfortable; he kept shifting in his chair every few minutes and rubbing his hands together. Christina frowned. She understood what he was going through; she had gone through it herself. Simon was feeling guilty about what had happened to Hans. He felt he was the cause of it Hans' attempted suicide. So did she for a while, until she had talked to her husband. Perhaps Simon should speak with his brother, smooth things over.

"Simon," Christina said to him.

Simon glanced up at his sister-in-law with a grim expression plastered on his face. "I don't blame you for what happened the last time you were here," she told him. "And you shouldn't blame yourself. Hans made his choice; you didn't make him do anything. I think you should go and talk to him about it, he's in the living room."

Before Simon could answer, the doorbell rang. Christina left the kitchen to answer it. She found Dr. Gottschalk standing on her porch with his black bag slung around his shoulder.

"Hello, Christina."

"Come in, doctor," she said, stepping aside and letting him pass into the house. She shut the door behind her and escorted him into the parlor. Hans was still in the same place as Christina had left him. He looked up when his wife and Dr. Gottschalk entered the room.

"Ah, Hans, how are you?" Gottschalk inquired.

Hans took a moment before he answered. "I'm doing alright - and yourself?" he asked, trying to sound polite.

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking."

Hans flipped off the television and began to wheel out of the room. "Let's get this examination over with, doctor."

"How did you know he was coming?" Christina asked. "I didn't tell you."

Hans turned back and glanced at his wife. "I heard you call him from the kitchen."

She blushed and nodded. "Right." Of course he had heard. After all, he hadn't been that far away.

Gottschalk placed his equipment back in his bag. He had just finished examining his patient, who sat on the bed observing quietly. He was surprised at what he had found.

"So what's the prognosis?" Hans questioned.

"Better than I expected."

Hans lifted a curious eyebrow. "Do tell."

"Well," Gottschalk began taking a seat. "You have complete feeling in your legs once more. Your strength is returning and your coordination is better."

"So, will I be able to get back to normal?"

Gottschalk sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking hard. "Perhaps, if you were to get additional surgeries on your back and continue with physical therapy, you will have a chance, but at this point I can't guarantee anything."

Hans took in what the doctor told him and nodded. "That gives me more hope than before."

"Good, just keep working at it and I think you'll get better, but be warned - this not going to happen overnight. This will take a long time, perhaps years."

"I understand, thank you doctor…f-for everything."

Dr. Gottschalk smiled. "You're most welcome."

The doctor picked up his bag and headed out of the room. As he walked down the hallway, he nearly crashed into Simon, who had been running towards the bedroom. Simon skidded to a halt when he came face to face with the doctor.

Gottschalk surveyed Simon. The man was pale and wide eyed. "Simon, is there a problem?"

"It's Christina; I think she's in labor."

"What?" Hans said coming out of the bedroom, having heard what Simon had just revealed.

Gottschalk didn't hesitate. He pushed past Simon and headed towards the kitchen. He found Christina sitting in a chair hunched over holding her stomach, while Mrs. Gruber stood behind her rubbing her back and whispering encouraging words.

Gottschalk walked up to the two women. "How far apart are the contractions?"

Christina went to answer, but she groaned in pain and clutched her stomach. "They're five minutes apart," Mrs. Gruber answered.

"All right, help me get her into the bedroom."

Gottschalk and Mrs. Gruber helped Christina up from the chair and headed towards the bedroom. Mrs. Gruber firmly told her son to stay put and remain out of the way. Hans complained that he wanted to be with his wife, but his protests were ignored when the bedroom door was slammed shut in his face.

They laid Christina on the bed. Mrs. Gruber helped her daughter-in-law with her clothing, while Gottschalk was grabbing things that he would need from his bag. Once he had everything, he turned back to Christina. She gazed up at him with a fearful expression.

"Just follow my instructions and you'll be alright," he told her.

Hans was a nervous wreck as he sat in the living room. If he could walk at the moment, he would be burning a hole in the carpet. But he couldn't walk, so he sat in his wheelchair. He was freaking out. One minute his wife was fine and the next Simon had announced that his wife was in labor. He hadn't seen that coming, but as he thought back a couple of days, he remembered she had been in a considerable amount of pain on and off.

Simon glanced over at Hans. He was pale and his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He could see Hans was distressed. Perhaps he should take Christina's advice and talk to Hans to keep his mind on other things. At that moment a scream echoed through the house. Hans gripped the side of his chair. He clearly wanted to go to his wife and comfort her. Simon decided he should speak to him, that moment.

"Hans," he called.

Hans slowly turned his head toward Simon, revealing an annoyed expression that was spread across his face. "What, Simon?"

"I'm sorry," Simon apologized.

Hans raised a confused eyebrow - Simon continued. "For the things I said the last time I saw you."

"Now is not the time for that," Hans growled.

"I think it is," Simon declared. "Christina is in good hands with Dr. Gottschalk and mother, she'll be alright. Anyway - the things I said to you those weeks ago were uncalled for. I didn't mean them. I was angry and well…I don't know what else, but I wasn't happy. Christina kept running to me, telling me what was going on between you and her and it all just got out of hand."

Hans sat there, listening to what his brother was trying to tell him. Things had gotten out of hand that day. They both had said some things they hadn't meant.

"We both said things we didn't mean that day, Simon, but we fought before and you've never come back to apologize. So why now?"

Simon swallowed nervously before he answered. "Because you never tried to kill yourself before."

Hans sighed and shook his head. "Simon?"

"No. You have no idea what went through my mind when I saw you laying at the bottom of that pool. When I dragged you in here and didn't find a pulse, I thought you were dead. Fearful was not the word to describe how I felt. All that went through my mind the whole time is was how I had caused this and how it was my fault. I'm sorry it took this to realize the impact of the situation. So I apologize. Not for just this incident, but for everything I've said over the years. Because these spats have to stop; where we're both grown men now and not children anymore."

"You're right, Simon, this has to stop, but I want you to know that my attempt at suicide was my own fault. Don't blame yourself it was my choice, I'm the one that did it. Your words really didn't push to do it. I had already had been considering it for a while. I don't blame you; after all, you're the one who saved me. So I thank you for that. Gottschalk told me what happened. If you hadn't pulled me out of the water when you did, I wouldn't be here now. Whatever we've said in the past is forgiven. What's done is done, let's not mention it again. I think we're both even."

Simon smiled and nodded. "Right, we're both even."

That moment, they heard the bedroom door open and Mrs. Gruber came into the living room. Hans and Simon turned to their mother.

"You can come and see Christina now," Mrs. Gruber announced.

"Is everything alright?" Hans asked anxiously.

Mrs. Gruber beamed. "Of course, go on and into the bedroom and meet your children."

She stepped aside. Hans slowly wheeled himself out of the living room, down the hall and into the bedroom. He halted in the doorway when he came upon the sight of his wife holding two babies in her arms - one wrapped in blue blanket and the other in a pink one. Christina glanced up in his direction and smiled.

"Come see your children, Hans."

Hans rolled over to the bed. He reached out and took his son into his arms. Christina placed his daughter into the other. Hans looked down at their faces. He felt the tears well up in his eyes. They looked just like the children in his dream.

"Hans, what's wrong?"

Hans shook his head. "I'm happy; they're just like I dreamed."

She didn't really understand what Hans was talking about, but she smiled, reaching out and cresting his face. "I could never thank you enough for this gift, Christina."

"I know, Hans, I know," she said with tears running down her face as well.

Hans took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. "I think I'm going to be alright now. I'll keep my promise to you. I understand now. It doesn't matter if I even completely heal. All that matters is you and the kids. This is our second chance, Christina. I don't want to die anymore, I want to live and spend my life with you."

Christina breathed a sigh of relief. Those were the words that she had been waiting to hear. "Don't you see, this was never really about your physical healing. It was about you accepting the situation," she explained to him.

"I know," Hans said finally. "We just have to rebuild our lives slowly and everything will be alright. If I never walk again like I used to, it will be ok, but as long as I have you and my family, I'll heal. I love you, Christina."

Christina beamed. "I love you too, Hans Gruber."

Perhaps there was hope for them after all.


End file.
